Let's Not Tell Anyone About This
by SamRosinenbomber
Summary: Everything was going swell at good old Stalag 13. But who's the mystery man Hochstetter just brought into Klink's office?
1. Chapter 1

This is my first fanfiction story for Hogan's Heroes. I have been lurking on this site for a while, reading all of the other wonderful stories out there and decided to try one of my own! That means critique is extremely welcome.

This story idea comes from my job at a museum, where I read the story of the Chicago Tribune's journalist correspondent J. Thompson, who jumped with paratroopers into combat operations.

* * *

1944

xxx

It started out like every other morning in a POW camp.

Really, it did.

The prisoners were awoken (at what they saw as a completely unreasonable hour) to the unwelcome sound of Schultz in their barracks.

"Rrrrrrraus, raus, raus! It is time for roll-call! All prisoners outside at once! Raus!"

"Aw, c'mon, Schultzie, why don't ya come back in, say, six months?" came the reply of Newkirk, sliding out of his bunk. Carter came down after, ungracefully landing on the floor beside him.

"Newkirk's right, Schultz," came the voice of Colonel Hogan, making his way out of his quarters, "By then the Allies will have liberated the camp, and you and Klink'll be free to surrender at a much more agreeable hour."

"Ha! Jolly jokers. Out! Everybody out of the barracks!" exclaimed Schultz.

"Ah, Schultz, why can you not wait until after I have made breakfast, non? I will save some for you," LeBeau added, hoping to entice the guard with some of his wonderful gourmet cooking.

Before Schultz could answer, the bunk leading to the tunnel opened up to reveal Kinch, who jumped out and hit the secret lever to close the opening.

"Sorry, Colonel, London had some pretty lengthy messages. Did I get up before Sch- Oh. Sorry," the radioman said, looking sheepish as he spotted the German.

"Ooohhh, Colonel Hogan! Tell the prisoners to stop doing things like that in front of me! Things of which I know nothing about! Nothing!" Schultz added.

"You're a real good German soldier, you know that?" said Carter, slapping Schultz playfully on the back as he followed the rest of the men outside.

"Ja. If anyone knew how good, I would no longer be around to see nothing!" was the reply.

xxxxxx

The morning air was chilly, and the prisoners stood in line shivering and rubbing their hands together, trying in vain to warm themselves up in the cold German air.

"Hurry up, Schultz, we're freezin' out 'ere!"

"Yeah, I think I just lost a toe, boy! The little one! That one's the most important, you know!"

"We are all here, Schultzie! Take my word for it!"

"All prisoners be quiet! Be quiet so I may count you! Now, let me start." said Schultz, easily rattling off numbers in German as he counted the men of Barracks 2 as he had done so many times before.

"Report! Repooooooort!" came the call from Colonel Klink's office as the kommandant of Stalag 13 made his way out of his office, whip clutched in one hand and tucked securely under his arm.

"Herr Kommandant, all present and accounted for!" said Schultz with a salute.

Klink returned the gesture, and then turned to the men gathered outside the barracks.

"Now prisoners, as I have done in the past, I have decided to share some information with you on how the war- of which you are no longer a part of- is going." Klink said, smugly.

"Wait just a goose-stepping minute here, Colonel! Don't tell me the Luftwaffe has been holding their maps upside down this whole time!" came the voice of Colonel Hogan.

"Hogan! I will have you know that the glorious Third Reich, led by our fearless Fuhrer-" Klink didn't have time to finish his speech. A black car, swastikas waving, was quickly driving into the camp and making its way over to Klink's office.

"What is going on?" Klink asked to no one in particular.

Schultz shrugged.

Klink hurriedly ordered Schultz to dismiss the men, and, re-tucking his whip under his arm, began to make his way over to his office where the ominous car was waiting.

xxxxxxxxxxx

"Kinch, man the coffee pot. Carter, watch the door," ordered Hogan once the men were back in the barracks. "Did any of those messages from London give you a clue about who might be in that Gestapo car, Kinch?"

"Yes, sir," replied Kinch, taking off the lid and removing the speaker/basket, "They said that the Luftwaffe just shot down a C-47 transport plane near Dusseldorf. It was full of paratroopers as well as some flyers, and the Krauts only managed to catch one of them."

"I guess that makes for some sour Krauts," cracked Hogan, putting his hands on his men's shoulders as they waited for the activity to start in Klink's office.

"Ah, always a pleasure to have you here at Stalag 13, Major Hochstetter! Heil Hitler!" came the nervous voice of Klink.

"Yes, Heil Hitler. Now I have here-"

"Would you care for some refreshment, Major? Schnapps? The good stuff?"

"Klink! I did not come here on a social call! This is important Gestapo business!"

"Yes sir, Major Hochstetter, what is it?"

"This," said Hochstetter, gesturing to someone or something the men huddled around the coffee pot could not see, "is the only person that was captured from the plane that was shot down over Dusseldorf. The Gestapo has deemed this prisoner as knowing nothing that would be of any use to the Third Reich."

"What a pity, Major, I'm sure-"

"Quiet, Klink! We intend to keep searching for the others that were on the plane. In the mean time, I'm sure that you will not mind having one extra prisoner to guard, hmm?"

"Major, you can't be serious? Here? In Stalag 13? But-"

"It doesn't matter Klink! The Gestapo know what they are doing. I trust you will handle the matter as you see fit, that is if you are not refusing…" The Gestapo major's voice was laden with threatening implications.

"Of course not! It would be an honor, Major Hochstetter! You know there have been no successful escapes from Stalag 13, and I can assure you-"

"Bah! Just make the arrangements. I have to report to Berlin shortly, and I cannot be bothered to make sure that you do everything right. Just have your guards keep a close eye out for any of the others."

"Yes, Major Hochstetter! Of course! Heil Hitler."

"Heil Hitler. I'll be checking back soon Klink!"

With that, the men in Barracks 2 could hear the door to Klink's office shut, signaling the departure of one Gestapo major.

"Who d'ya think they got in there?" wondered Newkirk aloud. Hogan shushed him and returned his attention to the coffee pot, waiting for Klink to speak again. They didn't have to wait long.

"Well, I suppose I should assign you to a barracks. Though we don't have a barracks that-"

The sound of a door opening and closing again came over the coffee pot.

Klink's annoyed voice responded to the room's latest occupant.

"What is it, Schultz?"

"Herr Kommandant, I- Oh, hello."

"Never mind the pleasantries, Schultz. Take this prisoner to the delousing station at once."

"The delousing station, Herr Kommandant?"

"Yes, you idiot!" Klink thought for a moment. After a second he added, "And when everything is finished up there, you can assign our new prisoner to Barracks 2."

The men around the coffee pot looked at each other and then to Colonel Hogan.

Their commanding officer shrugged with a crooked grin.

"Well, the more the merrier."

* * *

To be continued! Please let me know what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

Hello! I can't thank everyone enough for their kind and helpful reviews! I was very pleased with how the first chapter turned out, so I hope this one isn't a total disaster. I'm feeling out this story as I go, but I have a decent idea of where I want to go.

* * *

"Ow, Carter, you're bloody heavy mate, you know that?" came a disgruntled English voice.

"Gee, Newkirk, it could be worse! It could be Schultz up here, buddy!" was the reply.

There was no response from the Englishman, who was on his hands and knees in front of the small window of the delousing station while Carter stood on his back, attempting to peer through and get a peek at the new prisoner.

"Oh my gosh, Newkirk! I don't believe it!" the American exclaimed.

"What, what is it?"

"They got rid of the autographed picture of Klink! It was hanging right there on the wall just a few weeks ago, and now-"

"Carter! I oughta-"

Newkirk's threat was cut off by LeBeau, who was peering around the corner of the barracks acting as the lookout. "Hey! Carter! Newkirk! Get back to the barracks! The bald eagle is flying in your direction!"

The two men by the window were quick to heed LeBeau's warning. However, Newkirk's reflexes were a bit quicker. He scrambled to stand before Carter was able to step off his back, causing the other man to land in the dirt on his backside with a_ thump_. Newkirk rolled his eyes, but offered his hand and helped his friend up.

LeBeau quickly ushered the men into the barracks and shut the door, leaving it open only a crack so he could continue to spy on Klink. He watched as the kommandant strutted over to the delousing station, yanked open the door with an air of authority, and walked in.

"Well, did you see anything?" asked Hogan, as the men sat down at the table.

"Carter 'ere was too busy admirin' the decorations." groused Newkirk, pouring himself a cup of coffee from the pot that was not currently involved in espionage work. He sat down at the table next to Kinch, who had just emerged from the tunnel.

Carter scowled, but answered Hogan anyway. "I couldn't see a thing, Colonel. There's the curtain in there that was blocking my view."

The men around the table shifted a bit, looking up at their commanding officer to see how he would take the news.

"Well," Hogan remarked with a wry smile, "looks like our new new friend is going to be a complete surprise."

xxxxxxx

Carter was peering out of the barracks door, and had been for a while now. Did anyone else who acted as a lookout ever notice that the door smelled weirdly like onions and feet? He didn't think so.

"Anything yet?" asked Kinch, who was playing cards with the rest of the men. He laid one down on the table and looked up at the door.

"Not a thing. Boy, Klink sure has been in there a long time!" Carter answered. He turned back and resumed his watch at the door.

Newkirk picked up the card Kinch had just discarded with flourish and exclaimed, "Gin!"

A chorus of groans rose up from around the table.

"How come you win so much?" asked Foster suspiciously, laying his cards down.

"It's 'cause he's a dirty cheater," one of the other men answered for him.

Newkirk just shrugged with a cheeky grin, "Flattery'll get ya nowhere with me mate!"

The general grumbling was cut off by an exclamation from Carter.

"Hey! I think ol' Klink is leaving the delousing station! He's going back to his office!"

That grabbed the attention of everyone. Colonel Hogan emerged a second later from his quarters and made his way over to the door to peer through for himself.

"It's Klink alright," the Colonel confirmed, "I can see the sunlight bouncing off his head under his cap."

There was a pause as Hogan continued to peer through the door.

"Here comes Schultz with our new friend!" exclaimed Hogan, shutting the door and having a seat back at the table. Everyone followed his lead, trying to look as nonchalant as possible, picking up the cards of the game that they had just finished.

The men sat around tensely, looking at one another but not speaking. They were all consumed with worry and curiosity about the new prisoner, but not for long.

The door opened, letting in a gust of powdery snow and freezing wind. Schultz entered the barracks and exclaimed, "_Ach du lieber_! It is so cold out it might as well be the Russian Front!"

"Be careful what you wish for Schultz," came Hogan's response.

Schultz ignored the comment. "By order of the Kommandant, this barracks has been assigned a new prisoner!"

The men of Barracks 2 feigned surprise.

The large German guard stepped aside and pulled the newest prisoner in, shutting the door afterwards.

Gesturing, Schultz said, "This is Campbell, Kelly D." Schultz then made a sweeping gesture of the barracks as if showing off some glorious view. "And this is Barracks 2. I'm sure it will come to be a home away from home, as they say."

The men were all eyeing the new prisoner with interest, as well as suspicion.

Schultz, feeling awkward, made what would have amounted to an about face in a smaller person and quickly left the barracks, letting in another gust of cold German air.

Hogan, always the keen observer, noted as soon as the prisoner had entered that Kelly D. Campbell had thinning brown hair, a drab olive jumpsuit, and round horn-rimmed glasses. He also seemed to be quite up there in age, much older than any of the other prisoners at Stalag 13, but had a kind, amiable face.

Hogan stood up and saluted the older man, who promptly returned the gesture. "I'm Colonel Robert E. Hogan, senior POW here at Stalag 13 and your new commanding officer," Hogan quickly dropped all the military formality and offered the man his hand. After looking at it for a second, Campbell shook it with a smile.

"Pleasure, Colonel. I'm Campbell, but I'm sure you heard it from that German."

"Oh, that's Sergeant Schultz, the barracks guard. You'll be seeing a lot of him, and not just because there's a lot of him to see," Hogan added, smiling as Campbell let out a good-natured chuckle.

"So what's your story, Campbell?" Hogan asked, not letting on for a second that they knew well in advance how the man had arrived.

"Shot down over Dusseldorf in a C-47 transport plane. It was carrying 10 paratroopers and 9 American flyers, plus me," Campbell said.

"Does that mean you are neither a paratrooper or a flyer?" LeBeau questioned from the table.

Campbell sighed, "You are correct. I'm a correspondent for the _Chicago Tribune_. I usually parachute into the outskirts of a battle and wire the news and photos to my assistant stationed in Hammelburg. She edits it and passes it through the censors for me. Sometimes she's got a story done before I've got back on a plane. Together, we've made the _Chicago Tribune_ the paper that's always got the story first!"

"Another ruddy journalist. Just what we need," Newkirk interjected.

"Ignore him, Campbell," said Hogan, "tell me how you got captured."

"Well, we were about to jump when some German Dorniers came out of nowhere. Our plane was shot to bits. We all jumped. The younger men," Campbell paused, "well, they were just faster than me, I guess."

Hogan pushed down any sympathy he felt for the older man and continued to question him. "What happened when they caught you?" he asked.

"I was unlucky enough to run into a patrol that was out looking for us. They took me to the Gestapo when they found out I wasn't a paratrooper or a flier. They thought I'd know things about the enemy because of my profession, but I don't. I just report what I see; that information is no good after the fact," Campbell added. Hogan pulled out a chair and let the man ease himself down into it.

"Your assistant in Hammelburg; do the Krauts know about her?" Hogan asked.

"Thankfully no," Campbell said. "They think I do all my work alone. They confiscated all my equipment."

"That's not surprising. So, they sent you to our happy Stalag, eh?" Hogan asked.

"Yes. I'm sure they will want to keep an eye on me, Colonel. The Kommandant here had all sorts of questions to ask me after I had been deloused. I'm certain he thinks himself a ruthless interrogator, but I didn't tell him anything more than my name and serial number."

"You 'ave a serial number? Aren't you just a newspaperman?" Newkirk questioned.

"Well, yes, but I went through some training before they sent me out. I happened to have fought in the first war," Campbell added, smiling.

Newkirk looked away from him, taking a swig of his (now cold) coffee.

"One more question," Hogan asked, "Just how old are you Cambell?"

"Seventy-one sir, and still going strong."

Newkirk's coffee shot out of his mouth at this, missing an aghast LeBeau by a few inches.

* * *

Let me know what you think of this chapter; leave a review and help me out! Thanks. ;)


	3. Chapter 3

Well, here's the next chapter. I hope everyone likes it. But first I'd like to point out a few historical tidbits. This story is supposed to take place after the series ends, which puts the Allies in a pretty good spot, and close to liberating the camp. I may or may not make that part of the story. We'll see. Enjoy!

* * *

The next morning, once roll call was over with, Colonel Hogan went over to Campbell put his arm around the older man's shoulders.

"How'd you sleep?" Hogan asked.

"Like a baby," Campbell answered. He smiled, causing the creases around his eyes to deepen.

Hogan nodded.

One of Hogan's men was walking by, and Hogan grabbed him by the shoulder. It was Olsen. "Olsen, I want you to show Campbell here around the camp. Give him the grand tour." he ordered.

"Yes, sir," Olsen answered, grabbing his hat and jacket from his foot locker.

"Olsen here'll show you all of the wonderful amenities we have at our disposal here at lovely Stalag 13," Hogan explained with a grin.

"I'm looking forward to it," Campbell grinned back, "and he won't have to worry about showing me the delousing station. I've already seen more than enough of that."

Olsen made his way over and opened the barracks door. He gestured for Campbell to go first, then followed him out and shut the door behind him. The morning wasn't windy, which was a change, but it was still very cold. Neither of the men seemed to mind.

Newkirk, who had returned to his bunk after roll call, looked down at the Colonel. "What was that all about, guv?" he asked.

Hogan took a sip of his coffee and then answered, "I like Campbell, but I want London to check him out. His story's still suspicious."

Hogan turned to Kinch, who was looking up at him expectantly from the table.

"Kinch, radio London. Ask them to get any information they can on a Kelly D. Campbell of Chicago."

"You got it, Colonel," Kinch replied, heading over to the bunk that hid the entrance to the tunnels.

Carter looked up at Hogan from the table. "You think there might be something suspicious about Campbell? I think he's on the level," the American added.

"Gramps is about as threatenin' as Schultz is smart," commented Newkirk from his bunk.

"The smartest thing about Schultz is his wisdom teeth," Carter added.

"He seems harmless," LeBeau added from where he was stirring a pot on the stove.

Hogan looked at his men seriously.

"That," Hogan told them, "could make him even more dangerous."

xxxxx

"Well, everything about him checks out, Colonel," said Kinch, entering Hogan's quarters. The colonel, who was sitting at his desk thumbing through some papers, looked up at the radioman.

"London verified everything about his story. Even gave some background information on him. He was born in Scotland and moved to the states when he was eighteen," Kinch read, looking down at his notepad, "and was made a Lieutenant in the first war."

"Good job. Hey, did you get anything on his assistant in Hammelburg?" Hogan asked.

"Nothing much Colonel, just that she's been living with an elderly German couple. London said that they check out, too," Kinch replied.

Hogan drummed his fingers on his desk.

"What do you think, Colonel?" the other man questioned.

"I guess that means he's ok," answered Hogan.

"Are we going to put him on the next sub to England?" Kinch asked.

"I've been thinking, and I don't think it can be done," Hogan answered.

"Can't be done?" was the startled response.

"Klink and Hochstetter want to keep him here in case they decide he might know something of interest to them. Plus," Hogan added, "all we need is for stories to pop up in Chicago newspapers under his name and the Krauts will know he got out somehow or is making contact from this camp."

"We wouldn't want to spoil Klink's perfect record," Kinch added, smiling.

Hogan nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. "The Allies are getting closer every day. It probably wouldn't be worth the effort."

"Should I, ah, go tell the others?"

"Sure. Thanks, Kinch."

The radioman left the colonel's quarters and closed the door as he walked out.

Hogan sighed.

xxxxxxxx

Olsen came back a little while later with Campbell, who was looking tired after his extensive tour of Stalag 13. He sat down on the bunk that the men had decided would be his and wearily pulled off his boots.

Olsen, meanwhile, made his way into the Colonel's quarters to let his commanding officer know that he was back.

"Hey, Olsen, how'd it go?" Hogan asked before the other man could say anything.

"Pretty good, sir," answered Olsen, "he's a real nice fellow. Told me some swell stories of his war experiences."

"Good. Thank you, Olsen," said Hogan, giving the man a quick salute, which was promptly returned.

Olsen exited the room and Hogan followed him out, making his way into the main area of the barracks where all the rest of the men were gathered.

They were all talking amongst themselves, but the room quieted when Hogan stepped into the middle of the room and held his hand up for silence. Everyone looked at him, waiting for him to speak.

"Alright, I'm sure Kinch told some of you, but I'd like to announce it myself. Campbell's ok," he announced.

Some of the men shrugged, but others went over and slapped the very confused journalist on the back. "I'm what?" he asked. No one answered.

Hogan made his way over to Campbell's bunk, where Carter and Newkirk were seated next to him. Newkirk looked up the American and asked, "Does this mean we can tell him about the-"

"Hold it just a second, boy," Carter interrupted, "I've got some questions that'll prove if he's a spy one way or another."

The American sergeant looked at Campbell with a serious expression. "Who's Betty Grable married to?"

Newkirk rolled his eyes.

"Harry James," Campbell answered after a second, still confused.

Carter looked up at Colonel Hogan and smiled. "He's good."

xxxxxxx

"Mate, you've 'ad ya mouth open like that the whole time. You're gonna ruddy catch flies if you don't close it," said Newkirk with a smile, putting his arm around Campbell's shoulders. The older man had just taken his second grand tour of the day, this time of the expansive tunnel operations existing right underneath the Germans at Stalag 13.

To say he was surprised was an understatement.

"This is quite a fantastic operation!" he exclaimed, not knowing how many times the tunnels had received that exact same compliment. "You young men are doing extraordinary work, if I do say so myself."

Hogan and his men, plus Campbell, were in the radio room, waiting for a reply from Campbell's assistant in Hammelburg. Once the man had learned that the boys at Stalag 13 were able to communicate outside of the Stalag, he insisted that they notify her that he had been captured.

"I'm very grateful for this," he said as they waited. Kinch was attempting to locate the frequency that Campbell had given him, but wasn't having any luck so far.

Kinch took off the headset and sighed. "I can't get any connection to her frequency, Campbell."

Campbell looked worried. "Are you sure?"

Kinch nodded.

Campbell frowned. "Is there any other way to get in contact with her in Hammelburg?"

Hogan crossed his arms. "Why are you so concerned about this? Plenty of correspondents go out and don't come back. The paper'll figure it out and they can tell her."

Campbell looked at Hogan with a serious expression. "Even in the worst conditions, my radio was always able to get through to hers. I don't want her to worry about me, but that's not a huge concern of mine. I'm worried now that something might have happened to her. She just learned that she's expecting a baby, you know."

Newkirk balked. "They sent you over with an assistant who's up the duff?"

Carter suddenly looked uncomfortable.

"Of course not!" Campbell exclaimed, aghast. "She's been here in Germany with me for a while and got married a few months ago."

"Bloody charming."

"We'll think of something, Campbell," interrupted Colonel Hogan, before the conversation could get too inappropriate or heated.

"Why don't we send someone out through the emergency tunnel?" suggested Carter.

"Can't. There's Krauts crawling all over the place out there. They're still on the lookout for the men that went down with you, Campbell," said Kinch.

Hogan looked deep in thought.

"Newkirk, what have we got for a distraction?" he asked.

The English corporal was thoughtful for a moment.

"We 'aven't 'ad a go with the Glee Club in a while, sir."

Hogan smiled. "What should we start rehearsing?"

"I suppose a little Lambeth walkin' would be in poor taste?"(1)

"Don't be funny."

"Do you have a better idea, gov?"

"Well, I did hear this one song, but…" he hesitated, smiling a bit.

"But what?"

Hogan grinned. "How do you feel about _I've Got A Lovely Bunch of Coconuts_?"(2)

"The things I do for this ruddy war."

* * *

To be continued!

(1) Popular in the 30s and 40s, the Germans hated this dance, especially when a political remix was made of it in 1941. You can watch it on youtube, just search for "Lambeth Walk, Nazi style by Charles Ridley."

I think it's pretty funny, but that's just me.

(2) Written in 1944.


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter- the tips and comments help more than you know!

Here's the next chapter in our tale:

* * *

Colonel Klink looked up when he heard a sharp rap on his office door, not surprised when Colonel Hogan burst in without waiting for a response.

"What is it, Hogan?" he asked, annoyed.

Hogan gave the Kommandant a sloppy salute, which was returned in a similar manner.

"Sir, request permission to use the empty barracks for a performance by the Stalag 13 Glee Club," declared Hogan, a wily grin playing on his face.

"Denied. Get out!" was Klink's response.

"Oh, come on Kommandant," wheedled Hogan, tossing his crush cap onto Klink's helmet, "it'll be good for morale. And I'm not just talking about my men, sir. Your guards have been working too hard, especially the ones out in the woods looking for those paratroopers."

Klink took Hogan's hat off of his helmet and shoved it toward the American, who promptly returned it to his head and leaned forward with both hands on Klink's desk. "Really, Kommandant, who could it hurt?" he added.

"I'll have you know that a good German soldier does not think that two days on extra patrol is hard work!"

Klink stood up from his chair and made his way around the desk, his finger pointing at Hogan. "And as for you Colonel Hogan, I don't see why you care so much about the welfare of men that are not under your command."

Hogan sat down in the chair that was in front of Klink's desk and took off his hat, fiddling with it and doing his best to look pitifully contrite. "I'm sorry, Kommandant. It's just that the men were so set on having a performance tonight. They were so sure that their firm but fair Kommandant would let them have a little fun," said Hogan, looking up slightly.

Klink had a thoughtful expression on his face. "I have been firm but fair!" he said aloud, sounding more like he was talking to himself.

Hogan saw the fissures forming in Klink's resolve and hopped out of the chair, "Sir, it would be an honor if you would be there to watch," he furthered.

Klink sighed, defeated. He turned and made his way back to his desk and sat down heavily in his chair. "Alright, Hogan, permission granted. I can see it's not worth arguing with you about!"

"Thank you, sir!" Hogan said, his voice chipper.

"Don't think that I'm going to be as agreeable in the future for your little plans!" Klink said, his finger wagging.

"I'll try and remember that, sir," said Hogan, heading for the door.

He had the door open and was just about to walk out when he heard Klink exclaim, "Hogan!"

He turned around. "Yes, sir?"

"Are you always this infuriating?" Klink asked, looking slightly defeated.

Hogan put his cap back on with a smile. "Oh, no, sir." He wheeled around, bringing the door almost shut, "sometime's I'm asleep."

xxxxxx

"Alright men, here's the plan," said Colonel Hogan, addressing the occupants of Barracks 2, "Campbell, you know where the house is, so you'll come with me. I'll take one other man along with us."

Hogan looked out over the sea of faces, all attempting to avoid eye contact with their commanding officer.

"Well, don't all volunteer at once!" the Colonel exclaimed.

No one moved.

"Fine. Thank you, Carter," Hogan said, never minding the fact that the young American sergeant hadn't made any move to volunteer.

"Hey!"

"I felt a volunteer vibe from you. Go get on a civilian suit." Hogan's tone implied that there would be no use in arguing with him.

Carter sensed this and made his way over to the tunnel entrance, "Boy, the way they give orders around here someone's gonna think we're in the army!"

Hogan turned to look at the rest of his team. "Newkirk, Kinch, LeBeau….get ready to glee it up."

"What do you want us to do, mon colonel? We only have a few songs," LeBeau put in.

"What do you do? You improvise!" Hogan exclaimed, "Just don't do the Donald Duck Hitler impersonation again. We don't need a repeat of last performance," he added, with a pointed look at Newkirk.

The English corporal had the decency to look slightly repentant.

"Colonel, how exactly are you planning on getting out of camp?" Kinch asked sensibly.

"We're going to use the emergency tunnel. The Krauts'll all be in the barracks watching the Glee Club. I've got Colonel Klink to thank for that," Hogan added with a grin.

"Right, Colonel. We'll go get ready," Kinch replied, heading out the door with LeBeau and Newkirk close behind.

Campbell, who had been watching quietly the whole time, suddenly spoke up. "I still can't tell you boys how impressed I am with you at the size of this operation! It's astounding, truly it is."

"We aim to please," Hogan remarked with a grin.

"Are you sure it's going to work?" Campbell questioned as he slowly made his way out of his chair.

"Sure I'm sure," Hogan said, "but there's always a chance something could go wrong or we could get caught," he warned.

"Oh, certainly," Campbell remarked in agreement. "What do we do if that should occur?"

Hogan gave the older man a smirk.

"Easy. We tell 'em you've got a hot date waiting for you in Hammelburg."

xxxxxxxxxx

Carter, Hogan, and Campbell headed down into the tunnel once they had made sure that everyone in the camp was preoccupied with the diversion they had planned with the Glee Club's performance. They could only hope that the guys could keep Klink and the other Germans busy long enough so that they could complete their mission in town and get back before anyone got suspicious of their whereabouts or why they weren't there to watch the show.

Colonel Hogan carefully lifted the opening hatch of the emergency tunnel and peered around, making sure that there were no gung-ho guards still out patrolling the woods. Once he was certain that the coast was clear, he flung the hatch open all the way and lept out silently into the cold, still night air.

Carter was next to emerge, and was soon outside the tunnel standing next to Hogan. The two gently helped Campbell out of the opening and steadied him, still on the look out for any German activity.

Once the trio was a safe distance from the emergency tunnel entrance, Hogan turned to Campbell.

"I'm sorry I couldn't get a car for us to go into town in. It's not that long of a walk, but I don't want you to...well, I know you're.."

Campbell gave the Colonel a kind smile, understanding Hogan's desire to be considerate of the other man's age without being insulting. "I can make it, Colonel Hogan," he said, "I went through basic training, remember?"

"Oh. Yeah. Sorry," said Hogan, awkwardly trying to look away.

Even in the dark, Hogan could see Campbell's eyes shining with benevolent mirth at his evident embarrassment. Despite Colonel Hogan being the officer in charge, the older gentleman's calm demeanor and good-natured attitude put him at ease, and he returned the man's friendly smile.

As they walked silently through the dark German woods, Colonel Hogan noticed that Carter was being unusually quiet on this mission. Usually the young American sergeant was a highly talkative member of the team, even if they were on a mission where silence was key.

"You alright, Carter?" Hogan ventured to ask.

"Yes sir, uh, why do you ask?" was the response.

"No reason. You don't seem to have much to say tonight," Hogan observed keenly.

Carter shrugged, trying to appear at ease, but his pinched expression and awkward (well, more awkward than usual) body language contradicted his statement.

"Alright, Carter, I know something's wrong. Out with it," Hogan ordered.

The younger man looked up at his commanding officer. "Sir, about this mission...I...well...you see, I…"

"Spit it out, Carter!" Hogan exclaimed.

"Sir, I really don't want to be going on this mission."

"Why not?" Hogan asked, concerned.

Carter took a deep breath, hesitating.

"Why not, Carter?" Hogan pressed.

"Because I...um...I have a huge irrational fear of pregnant women, sir."

There was a long pause.

"WHAT?" Hogan exclaimed. He grabbed his sergeant by the shoulders and shook him. "Are you serious, Carter? Why didn't you tell me this before we left camp?!"

"I didn't want the fellas to know about this!" Carter lamented, "They make fun of me enough as it is," he added quietly.

Hogan let the younger American go and sighed, not quite sure how to handle the situation. Campbell seemed to have a better idea, it seemed.

"Why are you so scared of them, Andrew?" the older man asked, putting his arm comfortingly around the sergeant. "You just said yourself that this fear you have is irrational."

"Well, you see, a few years ago, when I was working in the drugstore, there was a really bad snow storm that blew in all of a sudden. It was a real awful one, boy, you should have seen it! Anyway, I was about to close up shop when this lady came in all panicked. She said that you couldn't get anywhere 'cause the roads were a big mess, and she needed somewhere to wait out the storm. All the other shops were closed," he added.

Hogan and Campbell slowly began walking him in the direction of town as he talked, not having time to turn around and return the younger man to the stalag. They just hoped that his fear would wear off once he saw that they had made it all the way to Hammelburg, and would hopefully not do anything that would disrupt the mission.

"So, ya see, this lady, well, she was really, really...in a family way. All of a sudden, she started screaming, and boy, was she loud! She yelled at me that her baby was coming, and that I needed to help her. And, well, I don't know anything about babies, really. But she just kept on screaming, and some of the things she said when she was screaming, well, I didn't hear words like that again until I was drafted!" Carter remarked.

Hogan cast his eyes heavenward, trying not to interrupt or comment on anything his sergeant said until after the tale was done.

"So, she wouldn't stop screaming, and when I went over to ask if there was anyone I could call, she bit me! Right here, on my arm!" The American sergeant pointed at the area of his arm that had fallen victim to someone who, in Carter's mind, was obviously a ruthless assassin.

"Well, I ran out of there as fast as I could, to try and find someone to help. I was pretty panicked at this point, and I guess that's why I didn't see the snow plow when it hit me."

Hogan had to bite his lip to keep from making some sort of exclamation.

"I don't remember being sent to the hospital, but that's where I woke up. Later, someone told me that someone in the store next to mine had heard the screaming and called for an ambulance. That was good, I guess. Except, well, I guess they thought I was the father, and the lady wasn't in any shape to tell anyone otherwise, because when I woke up, I was in a cot in the maternity ward, right next to her!" he exclaimed, intent on relaying all of the drama of the situation, "The hospital was full that day, and they told me that they had no other choice but to bring me there!"

"Do you know what it's like to come out of unconsciousness to be surrounded by a bunch of screaming pregnant ladies?" Carter asked.

Hogan sighed.

"No, Carter. I can honestly say that I have no idea what that's like."

* * *

If you want to know more about Donald Duck and his Nazi party affiliations, a youtube search for "Nazi Donald Duck" will turn up what I consider a very funny cartoon. A few of you have probably already seen it.

Yes, men were kept out of maternity wards in the 40s and even later than that as well. But hey, Muncie is a small town, and I had to traumatize the poor kid somehow. Strange things happen to that boy.

Leave a review and let me know what you think of this chapter!

* * *

_Since I strive to be as historically accurate as possible, I thought I'd include some history of war correspondents and journalists. War correspondents, although protected by the Geneva Convention, are just as at risk of being captured by someone who could choose to not follow it. They ran the risk of being shot on sight as spies, but if captured could be expected to be treated as a POW. Journalists, whether they see themselves as this or not, are legally part of that military unit. They pretty much have to know what they are getting themselves into and have to be prepared to deal with the consequences._

_ During WWII, the media was nuts. My favorite example of this, gleaned from a museum, is the New Yorker magazine's Deadly Double mystery. An ad appeared in this magazine for a dice game, and people later saw it as something that was placed there by Nazi or Japanese secret agents to warn of the Pearl Harbor attacks. A quick internet search for "Deadly Double New Yorker" and you can read some more about it._

_ There isn't much out there on independent journalists and the military, but from my research I've found out that they did have to pass their work through a censor, and if they didn't or published something someone high up didn't like, they could be jailed for "leaking" information. I have a scrapbook I found in an antique store that was kept by an Axis sympathizer in America during WWII, and there are quite a lot of war photos in it (mainly ones of Mussolini, but plenty of Hitler) that were clipped out of newspapers, mainly local ones. My favorite is one of ol' Adolf himself shaking hands with a journalist (as the caption states) for what he considered excellent coverage of a campaign. Right after a lot of these captions, they end the sentence with, "as approved by the censor." Who knows what got filtered out! No one knows…._


	5. Chapter 5

Thank you for everyone who has been leaving reviews and sending PM's telling me what they think of the story- everything helps!

This chapter is pretty much the second half of the last chapter, which I split into two parts.

I hope that everyone had a good holiday, and that the new year will be good to all of you!

* * *

_"Do you know what it's like to come out of unconsciousness to be surrounded by a bunch of screaming pregnant ladies?" Carter asked._

_Hogan sighed._

_"No, Carter. I can honestly say that I have no idea what that's like."_

…..

"Well, it was no pony race, I can tell you that, boy...er, sir."

"I'm sure it wasn't," Campbell agreed, hiding his amusement just as well as Hogan.

"And ever since then, I avoid ladies who look like they're ready to have a baby," Carter said, kicking a small rock aside and looking a bit sheepish now that his story was over.

"Carter, my boy, anybody who lived through something like that can make it through anything," Hogan assured, amusement coloring his tone slightly.

Campbell gave the young man a grin. "I don't think you have anything to worry about with my assistant," he assured.

"Why not?" Carter asked, looking skeptical.

"Well, for one thing, she only found out about her condition a little while ago. That baby's no where near ready to come out," Campbell added with a chuckle. "You probably won't even be able to tell she's going to have one yet."

Carter looked slightly more relaxed at this, and Hogan was suddenly very grateful for how easily and gently Campbell had handled the whole situation.

"What's her name?" Hogan inquired, realizing that he had never thought to ask the identity of the older man's assistant that was stationed in the town close to their camp.

"Lucy Dunn," Campbell answered, "but that's her maiden name. I don't know what her married name is," he added.

Hogan frowned at this. "No idea, huh?"

"No, sorry."

"Don't worry about it," said Hogan. He had hoped to be able to deduce by the woman's last name whether or not her husband was a German. He was already suspicious of her, and the fact that her loyalties could be compromised if that ended up being true, was making him question the situation even further.

"Hey!" Carter suddenly piped up, "I wonder how the fellas are doing back at camp with the Glee Club?"

xxxxxx

"Hello! Hello! Who's your lady friend?

Who's the little girlie by your side?

I've seen you with a girl or two.

Oh! Oh! Oh! I am surprised at you!

Hello! Hello! Stop your little games.

Don't you think your ways you ought to mend?

This isn't the girl I saw you with at Brighton!

Who? Who? Who's your lady friend?"

LeBeau, currently donning an inexplicably flattering dress, took a bow with Newkirk as they finished their number, the pair having just completed a rousing performance of_ I've Got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts._ Newkirk used the top hat that he had worn for his routine to gesture at the Frenchman next to him.

"Let's hear it for me little lady friend!" he encouraged, causing the rest of the prisoners to applaud wildly, exaggerating their cheering to show the Germans, mainly Klink, that they wanted the show to go on.

The two performers exited to the small alcove that was on the left of the stage, where LeBeau wasted no time tearing off the dress and wig he had worn.

"I don't know how you do it _mon ami_, but that is the last time I wear the dress!"

"Quit grousin'." Newkirk tossed the hat aside and turned to Kinch, who was getting ready to go out with them to indroduce the next performance. "Any word from the colonel?" he asked.

"Nothing yet. Look's like we're going to have to keep going," the radioman answered.

"Alright. Let's go." Newkirk and the other two men shuffled out of the small area and back onto the stage.

"And now, a limerick!" introduced Kinch, leading the audience in another round of applause.

Newkirk put up his hands to quiet the crowd, and gestured to LeBeau, who was standing next to him, to begin playing the harmonica that he had just produced from his pocket.

The Englishman, smiling devilishly, began.

"When this blasted war is over, oh how happy I shall be!

When I get me civvy clothes back on-

No more soldiering for me!

No more parades on Sundays,

No more asking for a pass.

I shall tell the Sergeant-Major

To stick the passes up-"

"Corporal Newkirk! I won't have that kind of language in a performance designed to promote feelings of glee! _Mmph!_" Klink interrupted, complete with a frustrated arm gesture.

The Englishman relented. "At your insistence, Kommandant! Alright, now, we will do a little number that has withstood the test of time!" He gestured for Kinch to come back out, and put one arm around the sergeant and the other around LeBeau, who had pocketed his harmonica.

The trio began their song softly, swaying in tune with their singing.

"So you're going away

Because your heart has gone astray

And you promised me

That you would always faithful be-"

"Go to him you love

And be as true as stars above

But your heart will yearn

And then some day you will return-"

Suddenly, the tune got much livelier, and the group's swaying and rocking became more energetic.

"Goodbye, my lady love, goodbye my turtle dove

You are the idol and darling of my heart!"

"Everybody sing with us!" LeBeau encouraged.

The prisoners in the audience joined in heartily.

"But someday you will come back to me!

And love me tenderly-

So, goodbye, my lady love, goodbye!"

"Get up here, Langenscheidt!" Newkirk called, pulling the confused Wehrmacht corporal out of the front row and up onto the stage with them. He put his arm around him and quickly brought him into the energetic act.

"Come on, sing with us!"

"Yeah, come on!"

Before he could protest, they began singing again.

_"Goodbye, my lady love, goodbye!"_

xxxxxx

Hogan was relieved when they could finally see lights in the distance, signalling that they would soon be in Hammelburg, and hopefully out of the cold. The night was clear and quiet, but the colonel still felt slightly uneasy.

"Follow me this way," Campbell instructed, heading them east towards a dirt road that was just on the outskirts of town.

The other two men complied, silently following the older man through the woods.

Colonel Hogan could eventually make out a few lights shining in the distance, and realized that they were shining out of the windows of an old, two-story farm house. There were a few other houses on the road, but they all seemed to be a good distance apart.

The three men stuck to the woods, eventually coming up behind the first house.

Campbell made a gesture for the men to stop.

"Well, this one's hers," he said, gesturing to the farm house. It looked innocent enough. There was smoke softly billowing out of the brick chimney, and lights glowed from the windows on both stories. Overall, it looked rather comfortable and peaceful, but Hogan knew very well that looks could be extremely deceiving.

"Does she live with anyone else?" Carter asked, peering with uncertainty at the house.

"Yes. An elderly couple, the Schneiders," he replied. "The whole house is theirs, but they stay upstairs mainly. Lucy helps out and takes care of them, and they let her stay in the downstairs."

"And do they know about her radio communications?" Hogan asked, always suspicious of a new contact.

"I believe so. They're quite old and rather forgetful, and Herr Schneider hasn't been well lately. They rarely leave their room, last I heard from Lucy. She brings all of their meals to them in bed," Campbell added, clearly proud of how his young assistant was handling her life in Germany.

Hogan, on the other hand, was not so sure. "Well, what sort of plan do you have in mind, Campbell?" he asked, rubbing his hands together to try and warm them up.

Carter looked up at Campbell expectantly.

"Well, nothing looks amiss from here. I certainly hope that proves to be the case," Campbell added. "Let's get a little closer, and I'll try peering in one of the windows."

Hogan nodded, and motioned for Carter to follow him and Campbell as they silently crept closer to the house.

They stopped when they reached the house and crouched under one of the lower-story windows. Their faces were lit up by the soft glow from the lights inside the house, and Hogan could see that Campbell was mentally bracing himself for whatever he might see when he peered into the window.

He watched as the older man slowly eased himself up and onto his knees, grabbing onto the window ledge to gain support as he rose up to look in.

"I don't see anyone, but everything looks alright," Campbell said, sounding relieved. He lowered himself back down next to the two younger men.

"What do we do now?" Carter asked, looking back and forth from Campbell to Colonel Hogan.

"I'd love to know if she's alright, but I'd also like to find out what happened to cause her signal to go down. I certainly hope that no one suspected her contact with me as being espionage work," Campbell mused.

Colonel Hogan would have been happy to leave right then and there, since everything seemed just fine. However, he sensed Campbell's concern and knew that the older man would only be satisfied when he saw that the girl was alive and well with his own two eyes.

Hogan sighed.

"Alright, Campbell, how do you plan on getting in there?"

Campbell smiled. "I have a very simple idea."

"What is it?" Hogan asked.

"We knock."

* * *

_Hello! Hello! Who's Your Lady Friend?_ was a popular tune from the early 1900s, and was later made popular again by the 1939 movie _The Story of Vernon and Irene Castle_, where Fred Astaire performed it, along with another guy who was in drag.

The "limerick" that Newkirk performs is actually a British WW1 song that was usually sung while marching. The proper title is "When This Blasted War is Over," and it's from the book_ Dictionary of Tommies' Songs and Slang, 1914-1918_. Yes, there are a lot of dirty songs and chants in there. Lots of them.

_Goodbye, My Lady Love_ was also a song that was popular in the early 1900s, but was given new life in 1936 by the movie _Showboat. _


	6. Chapter 6

_There probably wasn't a scratchier bush in the world__. _

Despite his general feelings of unease about the whole mission, this thought was currently foremost on the mind of Colonel Hogan. The hostile shrubbery in which he was hiding was currently poking and pricking him all over, and he could tell by the rustling in the bush across from him that Carter was currently suffering from the same predicament. There were two of the awful pieces of flora on either side of the farmhouse door, and had seemed like the perfect place for them to keep out of sight while Campbell risked knocking on the door.

They watched as he knocked gently, and waited a few moments. When there was no response, he knocked again, this time a little louder.

There was a tense couple of seconds, and the Colonel was seriously considering whispering to Campbell to just forget the whole thing and get the heck out of there. Suddenly, they could just make out a soft thumping noise. It sounded like someone making their way down a set of stairs. After a few seconds, the sound evened out and footsteps making their way to the door could clearly be heard. They got progressively got louder, and suddenly stopped in front of the door.

The two men hiding in the bushes could see Campbell back up a bit as the door opened up just a crack, spilling out a line of golden light out into the darkness.

"_Was ist los?_" came a voice from behind the door.

Campbell peered in at the owner of the voice, and the two bush-dwelling Americans could see his face light up in the glow coming from the inside of the house.

"Lucy!" he exclaimed, "You're alright!"

The door opened up wider to reveal a very relieved looking young woman. She smiled brightly at Campbell and stepped forward to envelop the older man in a hug.

"You were worried about me? I was worried about you!" said Lucy. She backed up and gestured for Campbell to come join her in the house.

"Well, I'm just fine," said Campbell, "and I brought along some friends with me."

At this, both Hogan and Carter began emerge from their hiding places, slowly picking their way out of the snare of the shrubbery.

Lucy looked alarmed to see two strange men making their way out of the bushes in her front yard, but she seemed to trust Campbell enough to take his word that they were friends and most likely had a very good reason for why they had been hiding.

She recovered quickly, and smiled at them. "Well, then, all of you, come in. It's too cold to be standing here with the door open! You must be freezing!"

Campbell walked into the warm farmhouse, and was quickly followed by Hogan and Carter, all three of them eager to get away from the cold night air. Lucy shut the door behind them and locked the deadbolt on the door. The sound it made echoed throughout the house with a resounding _thunk._

Lucy turned toward the three men that had just come in. "Please, sit down. Make yourselves comfortable," she invited warmly, "I'll be right back." She turned and disappeared into the small, brightly lit kitchen that was just off of the living room.

Campbell sat down heavily in an overstuffed arm chair that looked like it had seen better days, while Hogan and Carter took a small loveseat that was across from him. Carter looked a bit fidgety, but he seemed to be holding his own, so Hogan opted to ignore him for now.

"Well, what do you think of her, Hogan?" Campbell asked with an easy smile.

"I'll tell you when we're all safe back at the Stalag," Hogan said, more to himself than anyone else.

The Colonel didn't yet know what to make of Campbell's assistant. He had been suspicious of her from the start, and he hadn't seen anything about her yet that allayed his fears. She looked fairly young, probably mid-twenties, and had appeared to be no taller than LeBeau. There were no distinctive features that Hogan could recall from his first glimpse of her; brown hair, brown eyes; nothing really stood out.

When he first saw her, his eyes had automatically flicked to her midsection, curious to see if there was any evidence of her purported pregnancy. He didn't know if it was his imagination or not, but he seemed to recall an almost imperceptible bump there.

Hogan's thoughts were cut off as Lucy emerged from the kitchen and made her way over to them, placing a tray of cakes and steaming coffee mugs down on the small table that was between their seats.

She took one of the mugs of coffee and settled herself onto an old rocking chair, the only seat that was currently unoccupied. Campbell didn't hesitate to take a mug for himself, as well as one of the delicious looking chocolate cakes that were also on the tray.

"Please, help yourselves!" Lucy implored, sensing Hogan and Carter's hesitation. "It'll go to waste otherwise. The Schneiders haven't been interested in their after dinner treats lately," she added, blowing on her coffee a bit in an attempt to cool it off.

The two Americans on the couch silently obeyed.

"How are the Schneiders doing?" Campbell asked.

"Oh, they're doing alright I guess. Herr Schneider is practically bedridden these days, and I'm afraid that his wife is no better. Though, they are in good spirits," she added.

"That's very good to hear," Campbell replied. He hesitated for a second, and then asked, "Where's your husband, Lucy?"

At this, Lucy stiffened up a bit, her gaze flickering from Carter, to Hogan, and finally settling on Campbell. She sighed, but finally spoke. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" interjected Hogan.

Lucy gave Hogan a weak smile. "Well, I have a general idea." Her gaze dropped to the floor. "However, I do know that the Russian Front spans quite a large area."

Everyone was silent, as no one could think of anything quite right to say at that moment or what to make of this fact. Hogan's suspicions that Lucy had married a German soldier had been proven correct. However, if he was as far away as she said, Hogan's fears that he might be a threat to their organization were somewhat diminished.

Unexpectedly, Carter was the one to break the silence. "I'm sure he's alright."

Lucy looked up at him and smiled. "Thank you. Me too."

"Have you heard from him lately?" Campbell asked.

"I got a letter from him two weeks ago," Lucy answered, "He didn't say too much, but did mention that he is very cold."

"That sounds difficult, but if he's half the man I imagine him to be, he's tough enough to make it through a Russian winter," said Campbell, a slight grin on his face.

Lucy smiled back at him. "Thank you. He is."

Hogan reluctantly put down his piece of cake- it really was as good as it looked!- and decided it was time to say something. "I don't mean to be rude, but we're here on official business, you guys. We came to see if Lucy was alright, and she is. We have to get back to camp soon," Hogan pointed out.

"You're leaving already?" Lucy asked.

"Unfortunately I think we must," agreed Campbell, with obvious reluctance.

Even Carter looked loathe to leave the warm, charming farmhouse. He seemed quite relaxed in Lucy's presence, despite his earlier hesitations. Hogan suspected that their host's genial hospitality and general warmth had put him at ease. That, and the fact that she currently had not attempted to bite him, nor did she appear to be ready to give birth right there on the floor at any given moment.

"There is one thing," said Campbell, shifting in his seat, "The whole reason for my worry and our little trip out here."

Lucy looked up at him. "Yes?"

"These men have access to a radio set, and I tried to contact you through it, with no success. I've never had a problem with it before, and that's what worried me. Did something happen to your transmitter?" Campbell asked.

"My transmitter?" Lucy asked, perplexed. "Why, it's fine! I send a message to Chicago just this morning telling them that there was still no word from you."

"Did you get a response?" Campbell asked.

"Yes, I did. They said that they believed that you had been taken prisoner. I'm glad that's not true."

It suddenly dawned on Hogan that, with Campbell's safe arrival at her front door, as well as the fact that he had told her they had access to a radio, Lucy had no idea that the three men had arrived there from Stalag 13 and would be considered escaped prisoners.

"So am I, Lucy," said Campbell. He flashed a look in Hogan's direction that told the colonel the older gentlemen had suddenly had the same thought, and realized it was probably wise to keep his assistant blissfully ignorant of their current situation for the time being.

Lucy placed her mug down on the coffee table and stood up. "Why don't you have a look at it? Maybe there's something wrong with it that's keeping out your signal."

"I'll take a look," said Campbell. He placed his mug down as well, and followed her as she made her way into the little kitchen.

Carter and Hogan also stood up and followed.

Lucy approached a cabinet, and opened it. She pulled out a medium size radio set, which, to Hogan and Carter, almost resembled theirs.

"It was fine this morning," she remarked, carefully placing it on the counter.

"Let's have a look," Campbell suggested, motioning for Hogan and Carter to come closer as he began to carefully examine the delicate equipment. He peered inside the gadget, and, apparently finding nothing amiss there, began to examine the wiring. Campbell had been working on the radio for only about a minute when it suddenly made a whirr sound, and Hogan could swear that he heard what sounded like a voice, but it was quickly cut off and the radio went dead again.

"Lucy, where do you keep your spare radio parts?" Campbell asked.

"In the drawer closest to the icebox," she replied, motioning in the right direction. Campbell went over to it and began shuffling through the various odds and ends and spare parts that were in the drawer.

"Sir, do you think we shoulda brought Kinch along?" Carter asked Hogan, gesturing to the now-silent radio.

"It might have been a good idea, but I didn't think that technical difficulties would be the reason she couldn't be contacted," Hogan remarked, peering at the machine on the counter. What could possibly be wrong with it? It looked just fine to him.

Suddenly, Hogan heard a sickening click sound that he really hoped wasn't what he thought it was. His hopes were dashed when he felt something that could never mean anything good: the cold metal of a German Luger pressed against his temple.

"Now don't move a muscle, Colonel."


End file.
